


I'm Your Heaven, I'm Your Hell

by leere



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Roanoke
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Anal Sex, Aristocracy, Blow Jobs, Bottoming from the Top, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding, Rimming, Sex, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2018-12-25 19:29:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12042684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leere/pseuds/leere
Summary: "I may love the paintings more than you," he moans, sounding a bit drunk, "but I think I might just love your cock more than the paintings."





	I'm Your Heaven, I'm Your Hell

**Author's Note:**

> A moment in time after the bath scene, but prior to Edward's death. I don't care that it was a televised recreation. This was an R-rated deleted scene, goddamnit. Lmao. Enjoy my shit please.
> 
> Wanted to write this since this episode aired, which was literally a year ago, but finally got around to it just now. This is probably just my way of expressing my gross infatuation with Evan Peters, and/or my even-grosser infatuation with men in powdered white wigs. And no, I'm not into Hamilton. Quick disclaimer; can't really justify the gross dynamic between these characters. Sorry for being nasty. Also, I don't own AHS. Eh.
> 
> Title's from Miguel's The Valley, which is quite possibly the filthiest song I've ever heard. Fits this fic, considering it got way kinkier than originally intended. Did people in the 1800s even eat ass? Hell if I know.

Guinness pulls away to study his work, licking his lips. In another life, he figures, as he studies the love-bitten skin of his lover, he could bite him where everyone could see it, not just in secret places. In another life, they wouldn't have to hide, and he could mark him, so everyone would _know_.

True, Guinness is just a humble servant - but Edward belongs to him as much as he belongs to Edward. He only wishes he could show that ownership off.

He jolts when Edward tugs sharply at his curls, and glances up. Edward's staring at him, pink lips parted. He closes his eyes and stretches, primly, and Guinness sits back to admire the way his lithe body flexes. He always looks a bit cat-like, but the comparison fits now more than ever. Once he's finished, he lifts his head and quirks a brow at Guinness, as if he's challenging him to say something. When Guinness doesn't, Edward purses his lips and looks down at himself. "If you'd like to fuck me, you may. I'm quite relaxed from the bath."

Guinness smiles, a little smugly, proud that his notoriously anxious partner can be calmed by some warm water and the feeling of Guinness' hand on his prick. Certainly, the lax man beneath him now is nothing like the tense, irate man who lay beneath him in the tub just a few minutes before.

The servant eases his hands down Edward's chest, passed his rosy peaked nipples, over his visible rib cage, passed the swell of his pale stomach. Just as he's about to reach his cock, and Edward's arching in anticipation of the contact, he diverges and instead runs his fingers down the redhead's thighs.

Edward starts to protest, brows pinched in displeasure, but he stops once Guinness repeats the movement, using his nails this time. Edward giggles, because he's ticklish, and Guinness absolutely loves moments like this, moments where it doesn't just feel like sex - moments where Edward's usual scowl is replaced by a rare, joyous, child-like smile that never fails to make Guinness' heart swell.

"Enough," Edward gasps, trying for stern. He's writhing and flailing, but his lover's got him by the sides now, where he's most susceptible. If he wasn't giggling maniacally, he'd be genuinely angry. As is, his face is going a bit red with annoyance, and his brows are furrowed, but he's still grinning hugely, even if it's entirely against his will. "Stop!" Edward cries, and Guinness complies.

He sits back again, on his knees, and grins down at his panting lover. "Fun, sir," he says, softly, swooping down to mouth at his aristocrat's jaw, to breathe in his scent. He smells like bath soaps and sex; a humorously contradictory combination. "We're having fun. You shouldn't get upset over a bit of foolery every once in a while."

"Look what you've done," Edward bemoans once he's regained his composure, sitting up by his elbows and frowning down at his prick. He's gone soft.

Guinness is soft, too. "I can fix that," he says, pressing a soft kiss to Edward's smooth cheek. His hand heads straight for his cock.

Edward turns his head to the side once Guinness starts jerking him off, long and slow, and the servant uses it as an opportunity to lovingly suck at the wealthy man's neck. He's careful not to leave any permanent marks, but sucking at the skin briefly and then watching the resulting love mark fade within seconds is nearly as satisfying.

"As I said," the aristocrat says, gruffly, "if you'd get on with the fucking, I'd appreciate it immensely."

"Patience," Guinness tells him, but he's made his lover wait long enough. He reaches for the vile of oil they keep beneath Edward's silk pillows, then pours a bit into his left hand, dipping his right fingers into the liquid. 

Edward eyes it. "Perhaps once day they'll invent something a little less pungent."

"Perhaps," Guinness replies, sliding his body down until he's nestled between Edward's thighs. It's nice down here - once of his favorite places to be. Edward always seems likes when he's down here, too, if the look in his eyes is any indicator.

"Two," the redhead says when Guinness starts to press the first finger in. Guinness looks up at him, and Edward clarifies, "Start with two."

"Gladly, sir," Guinness says, pushing in his middle finger as well.

He watches Edward's face as he stretches him out, watches the twitch of his cock when he hits a good angle. Edward tends to be rather quiet when he's being pleasured, but Guinness has learned to look for the small things when making love to him.

When Edward's ready, he withdraws his fingers, dries them on a rag from the bedside table, like Edward always insists he should, and sits back, on his knees once more. Just as he's hitching Edward's legs up, the aristocrat puts a hand on his arm. "Wait," he says.

Guinness stops immediately. "Yes, sir?"

"I think I'd like you beneath _me_ today."

Guinness raises a brow. He's never been asked to play the woman's part before. Edward's always seemed content with taking that role. "Are you sure, sir? I've already done the work to prepare you-"

"No, no, no," Edward says, waving a hand. "We shan't be switching roles." He looks Guinness up and down, and the hand on Guinness' arm moves to tweak at a nipple. "However, I'd like to be the dominating partner this time around."

Guinness is surprised by, but not against, the proposition. Edward's peremptory when he's on his back; it's no wonder he'd enjoy being in a position that enables him even more control. "Of course," Guinness agrees, nodding.

Edward sits up, eyes sharp as he watches his servant take his place on the soft sheets. His eyes trace Guinness' hard muscles as he moves to straddles him. Guinness resists the urge to arch up and grind his straining prick against his lover's bottom; resists the urge to grab him and have his way with him like he's usually permitted to do.

Fortunately for Guinness, Edward's even more impatient than he. Without much preamble at all, he reaches back for Guinness' cock and slides himself down onto it, his body taut, his face almost adorably pinched.

The darker-skinned man stares at him, watching his face; specifically, watching the pain and pleasure that flicker across his pale features. Guinness bites his lip and digs a hand into his lover's ass when the redhead clenches around his cock.

Edward gives a dazed little giggle. "I may love the paintings more than you," he moans, sounding a bit drunk, "but I think I might just love your cock more than the paintings."

The words hurt earlier and they hurt now, even though they shouldn't; Guinness knows what Edward is like. Still, each reminder that Edward considers him disposable is like a stab to the chest. He tries to pretend he doesn't mind, though, focusing instead on the physical and primal beauty that is the sight of Edward loving every inch of his prick.

Edward's got his head tilted up, neck on display, mouth agape, cheeks tinged pink from exertion. He's bouncing himself, very articulately, like he's had practice at this. Guinness doesn't want to think about who he's done it with. He knows he's not the first male servant his employer has successfully seduced, and he's sure Edward's had his fair share of sexual encounters with his fellow aristocrats, too, but he is confident that he's the first of all the affairs that his employer has truly cared for. Edward might love his art more, but at least he loved him at all.

The smaller man's riding the man beneath him a bit faster now, breathing rapidly and moaning more frequently. His own ruddy cock is bouncing each time he lifts himself, and it's perversely enchanting to the servant. The sex has been rather mediocre for Guinness, who likes animalistic sex where he gets to fuck hard and fast and deep, but the wanton expressions on Edward's face have been some kind of consolation.

Edward comes not long after, without touching himself; both his hands are digging rather painfully into Guinness' thighs, where they've been braced. Thankfully, manicured nails aren't too painful.

The way Edward's body goes stiff for a moment before he starts trembling, cock spurting delicately, is its own type of gorgeous, but Guinness watches his face instead. He stares at that red, red mouth, open and begging to be abused; the soft brown eyelashes, hiding the darkest of eyes, more bottomless than Guinness has ever seen before; the pink blush high on his soft but sculpted cheeks, stark against his gorgeously pale skin.

Guinness holds him in place by the hips as Edward slumps against him, weak after his orgasm. He usually tries to push Guinness away immediately after, not out of over-sensitivity but out of some weird control complex, but today his servant doesn't allow that. He's going to finish, and Edward's too out of it to protest.

The smaller man lifts his head as Guinness continues fucking him. Without the mind-numbing distraction of intercourse, the cold, predatory look is back in his eyes, even though he's wincing and gasping with every thrust. He puts a hand on Guinness' arm, and the servant stops, ignoring the throbbing of his cock.

Edward's frowning at him. "You haven't come."

"No," Guinness replies, palming his employer's ass. "May I finish?"

Edward shakes his head. "I'll suck you."

That's a surprise; oral sex is a rarity between them. It's either penetration, or simply touching.

Edward gets off Guinness' cock, flinching a bit when the head pops out. He starts to slide down his lover's dense body, but he's stopped by a hand on his ass.

Guinness is smiling at him fondly. "Watching you ride me as though I was some kind of stallion was wonderfully filthy, Edward. We'll have to do it again."

"Comparing yourself to a horse won't ensure it," Edward says, a bit bitterly. "I'm no equestrian."

"It was _passionate_ ," Guinness tells him. "Fantastically erotic."

"Couldn't have been that erotic," Edward retorts, hissing softly when one of Guinness' fingers sinks into his slick hole. "You didn't climax."

"I could have, if I'd gone a bit longer." Guinness sinks another finger in, then, thoughtfully, uses his other hand to press the first two fingers on that one into his lover as well, so he's got four fingers inside.

Edward grits his teeth and leans forward, face pressed to Guiness' chest, back arched, bottom facing up. Guinness can see his own hands from here, but not his fingers or where they're disappearing into. "What are you doing?" Edward asks, but his voice comes out in a choked moan.

"Not entirely sure," his servant responds. "I'm improvising. Can you turn around for me?"

Edward harrumphs. Guinness slips his slicked fingers out and watches at the redhead gets off of him, then mounts him again, this time so his derrière is directly in Guinness' face.

They've never done this before, but Guiness had spent a fair amount of time considering if it was physically possible, and thinking to himself how arousing it might be.

"Your prick looks rather odd upside down," Edward says, wrapping a hand around it. He's using the other hand to brace himself, on the darker man's thigh.

"Shh, I'm busy being introduced to your pucker. Perhaps I should give her a lick?"

"Customary greeting," Edward agrees, breath hitching a bit, perhaps at the teasing feel of Guinness' breath on his skin. He's started pumping, which feels exquisite. Guinness can't wait for his mouth.

Then there's a pause.

"Well?" Guinness prods.

Edward hums. "You first."

The larger of the two huffs, but obeys, lifting his hands to hold apart his lover's bum. He lifts his head to lick, straight down the middle, and flinches at the unpleasant taste of oil and his own pre-ejaculate. However, the noise Edward lets out makes up for it. He shudders, hips hitching back, and Guinness grins to himself and licks harder. Perhaps if he makes Edward come twice today, he'll be in a better mood tomorrow.

He pulls away to say, "My prick, if you'd be so kind."

Edward complies, mouthing wetly at Guinness' rock-hard cock. The servant moans shakily, pausing his ministrations on Edward's ass to breath in and out and simply focus on the pleasure, as Edward's warm mouth finally sank down on his neglected manhood.

The aristocrat pulls off momentarily to say, "I won't continue if you don't."

Guinness immediately resumes his work, laving his tongue over his lover's most sensitive place, and listening to him moan around his cock. This is quite possibly heaven, he thinks. What he'd give to never leave this bed.

"I'd like to come again," Edward says at some point, once his thighs have started trembling and sweat is dripping from him. "Fingers, please. Three at most."

Guinness is just as sweaty, and he's bordering on exhausted. Edward's mouth feels incredible, but he's working at a far too languid pace, and Guinness feels like he's on the brink of insanity as a result.

Still, he silently complies, lifting three fingers from his right hand and pushing them into the redhead's slick entrance.

"Slow," Edward says, jacking his lover off painstakingly lazily, so Guiness does, works his fingers deep but slow, pressing and twisting until Edward's making weird, desperate little noises.

For some reason, the infamously selfish aristocrat seems to decide that coming twice before his partner has even come once is completely unfair, so he begins to suck with much more vigor than he ever has before. His hand speeds up, and, caught off guard, Guiness' hips work overdrive as he comes, right into Edward's mouth. He's not sure if he swallows - he's not entirely sure of anything. His brain goes black for a good two minutes. When he comes back to reality, he's still three fingers deep, and Edward, apparently having resigned himself to fact that Guinness had randomly gone blank, is fucking himself on his fingers and sobbing, nails digging into Guinness' thighs so hard it burns.

"Here, sir," Guinness says softly, putting his free hand on Edward's hip to stop his movements. Edward slows, body going lax. "Oh, don't relax yet," Guinness says, curling his fingers into his lover's sweet spot. Edward whines, dropping his head to rest against Guinness' thigh. He mouths wetly at it, which is a bit unsanitary, but Guinness can't complain considering his mouth was just on the other man's anus. 

He uses his other hand to reach around for Edward's cock, which is once more straining. He wraps a hand a hand around it and tugs rhythmically but gently, a contrast to the ruthless way he's fingering his lover. It proves to be enough for Edward, who comes silently within moments.

Guinness waits for him to stop clenching to pull his fingers out, and he rubs tenderly at the underside of Edward's spent cock with his thumb before he removes that hand, too. Edward quite literally rolls off Guinness and sprawls tiredly beside him.

"We're absolutely filthy," Edward comments once he's got his breath back.

Guinness isn't sure if he means physically or sexually. They're a bit of both, he thinks. "Another bath?"

Edward rolls over onto his stomach. "Yes. Prepare it, would you? I'll rest for a moment, then I'll join you. Oh, and fetch a maid to deal with these sheets."

"Of course, sir." Guinness smiles and presses a small kiss to Edward's flushed cheek. Edward doesn't acknowledge him - he never does - but that's alright. 


End file.
